


Salvation

by Dolimir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpectedly, Sam's life gets a little easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Slod's 8th [info]picfor1000!

“I…I don’t understand.” Sam frowned at the thick manila envelope in his hands.

The perky work study student grinned up at him. “Think of it as a summer endowment.”

“But I thought my scholarship only covered the spring and fall semesters.”

“Oh, this isn’t part of your scholarship, sugar. This is something entirely different.”

Sam didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth as he had spent his Spring Break filling out a lot of paperwork for various grants and scholarships, but he wasn’t expecting to hear anything back from them until August.

The blonde’s smile dimmed slightly as she looked, almost accusingly, at her computer. “You are Samuel Winchester, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Your birthday is May 2, 1983, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Happy Birthday, by the way.”

He smiled distractedly at her. “Thank you.”

“You currently live in Lewis Hall, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s yours.”

“But I don’t remember requesting funds from any organization called “Trained Wenches.”

The blonde gave a bubbly laugh. “Sweetie, someone gave you money. Take it and run to the nearest bank.”

“Are there any restrictions on how I use the money?”

“If there are, they’ll be in the packet.” She then made a shooing gesture at him, letting him know, in her not- so-subtle way that she was done dealing with him.

Sam gave her a nod, then turned and walked out of the Financial Aid office in a daze. He couldn’t deny he’d been stressing about what he was going to do over the summer break. He had hoped for some sort of work-study program to help pay for a room, but had missed the deadline to apply because he had been neck-deep in a fifteen page history paper.

He sat on the first empty bench he came across and opened the envelope. The letterhead looked official enough. He made a mental note to look the organization up during his next shift in the computer lab.

He tried to concentrate on the words in the letter, tried to be a grown up and give the letter its due diligence, but instead found himself skimming, his curiosity about the rest of the packet gnawing at him.

Giving into temptation, he started flipping through the other paperwork. The first slip of paper to catch his attention was a check. His breath caught in his chest when he looked at the total. It was more than enough to pay for a room during the summer break, and if he played his cards right, there was enough to cover his utilities and buy groceries as well.

He could now work over the summer to earn spending money for the fall semester. While he was grateful for his main scholarship, it had quickly become apparent within his first week at Stanford that his scholarship wouldn’t cover expenses such as clothes, supplies and beer. Working in the computer lab had barely kept his head above water, but had allowed him to type his papers without having to fight other students for computer time.

His friends always teased him that he studied all the time, but the truth of the matter was he studied because he couldn’t afford to go out on Fridays for pizza and beer.

He looked at the next slip of paper and noticed a coupon for a free laptop computer, loaded with the full Windows suite, a printer and a six month subscription to a local internet provider. Unexpected tears burned his eyes. He had had to work twice as hard as everyone else because he couldn’t type his notes in class, because he had to wait until he went to work to access the internet, if he didn’t want to trudge to the library on the other side of campus. The computer was a god-send.

The next slip of paper was for one large free pizza a week for six months at the best pizza joint in town.

Pizza.

Real pizza and not the cardboard crap the cafeteria tried to pass off as pizza.

Sam shook his head. This grant was almost too good to be true. He carefully stuffed the slips of paper back into the envelope and studied the letter again.

 _Your awards are based on the information you reported on your Free Application for Federal Student Aid. Your eligibility for these awards may change if new information is received, including information we may receive with regard to your Satisfactory Academic Progress. The Board of Trustees reserves the right to adjust your awards._

He nodded to himself. The wording was pretty much the same as his scholarship letter, and he had used the Free Application software during Spring Break.

He pressed the packet to his chest. It was a miracle. He wouldn’t have to sleep on the streets or beg one of his friends to take him home.

Pulling the computer coupon out of the packet again, he realized he could pick it up any time he wanted. And since he still had two weeks of school left, he could definitely use it.

He practically leapt off the bench on his way to the bookstore, trying to look like he wasn’t running.

*-*-*-*-*-*

“Your daddy will finally bust that vein in his forehead if he ever finds out what you’ve done, boy.”

“Then let’s hope he never finds out,” came the flat response.

Bobby Singer watched Dean as he drank in the sight of his brother, as if trying to memorize every little detail. “I still think you should just go over there--”

“Is the website up and running?” Dean cut him off.

“Yes, although Jim’s decided to keep it simple.”

“How so?”

“It’s going to look like it’s under construction.”

“And there’s no way to trace it back to him?”

“No, he has a buddy in Atlanta who set it up for him.”

“Good.”

“I think the boy’s grown since he’s been gone. He may even be taller than you now.”

Dean grinned at his friend. “It’ll never happen.”

End 


End file.
